Modern meditation

13/11/2025

The Detox of Self-Betrayal

— When the Body Remembers Every Time You Abandoned Yourself

© Lee – Soul & Cell Detox

The Gentle Way Back to You

This post is for educational and informational purposes only and does not substitute medical advice.

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There is a kind of poison the body carries that no herb, no cleanse, and no diet can touch.

It is not in the liver. It is not in the gut. It is not in the lymph.

It lives deeper.

In Siddha medicine, this poison is called anthu paavam — the residue of every moment you betrayed yourself in order to stay loved, accepted, safe, or alive.

In the nervous system, it feels like a quiet collapsing.

In the fascia, it feels like a tightening.

In the soul, it feels like:

“I left myself again.”

And the body remembers. Every time.

Not to punish you — but to bring you home.

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**Self-Betrayal Is Not a Behavior — It Is a Chemistry**

We think self-betrayal is psychological. But the body knows better.

Every “yes” you forced, every boundary you swallowed, every time you stayed when your bones whispered “Leave,” every moment you allowed disrespect to keep the peace, every time you laughed when your heart was breaking, every time you became small so someone else could feel big —

your body recorded it.

A chemical shift.

A tightening in the diaphragm.

A collapse in the pelvic floor.

A freeze in the vagus nerve.

A dimming of the inner light.

Self-betrayal is not a personality trait.

It is a physiological wound.

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Where Self-Betrayal Lives in the Body

In the throat:

all the words you didn’t say.

In the womb:

all the “no’s” you silenced.

In the gut:

all the instincts you overrode.

In the heart:

all the love you gave to people who couldn’t hold it.

In the solar plexus:

all the times you abandoned your own power.

In ancient Tamil Siddha texts it is written:

“The body becomes the archive of every unclaimed truth.” That archive eventually becomes symptoms.

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How the Body Detoxes Self-Betrayal

It doesn’t happen through green juice. It happens through honesty.

You may feel:

• sudden grief

• shaking

• exhaustion

• anger with no story

• clarity that feels like fire

• the urge to withdraw

• the desire to speak truth

• the inability to tolerate the old life

This is not instability. This is detox.

The body is releasing the weight of all the times you abandoned yourself.

Ayurveda says:

“When truth returns to the body, heat rises.”

Heat is not anger. Heat is resurrection.

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Why It Hurts Before It Heals

Because the body must show you the exact place where you left yourself — so you can return.

Self-betrayal is healed by:

• choosing yourself

• walking away from misalignment

• saying what needs to be said

• no longer performing for love

• resting when the world wants you productive

• letting peace matter more than pleasing

• allowing your intuition to speak again

This is the real detox. The one nobody posts about.

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The Soul’s Invitation

There comes a moment in every woman’s life where she must decide:

“Will I abandon myself again — or will I come home?”

Jupiter retrograde, eclipses, transits —

all of them peel away the layers - until only your truth remains.

Not the truth you show the world.

The truth you whisper to the inside of your ribs.

And the body, your oldest witness, says:

“This time… choose you.”

04/11/2025

The System is a Trap. But You Are Not Powerless.

You can feel it, can’t you?
Something about this world is off.
You work, pay, scroll, repeat —
and still feel empty, like you’re living in someone else’s dream.

Gnostics called it the Kenoma — a hollow world crafted by false rulers, the Archons.
Taoists saw it too — not as evil, but as a distortion. A disharmony.
A world out of step with the original current of the Tao.

In 2025, the trap is deeper than ever.
We’re algorithmically conditioned.
Emotionally manipulated.
Spiritually starved.

And yet…

There is a Light that the system can’t touch.
There is a Flow that no machine can replicate.

You don’t need to scream at the matrix.
You don’t need to fight shadows.

You just need to withdraw your agreement.
Unplug your essence from the imitation.

And remember what you really are:

You are not a user.
You are not a statistic.
You are not the product.

You are Light. ✨
You are Tao.
You are the untouched center.

And once you remember…
they have no power over you.

✍️ Keith Coley

03/11/2025

YOU are the most important thing in this world! Look after YOU 💕

✨ Look After YOU ✨

It’s easy to get caught up in taking care of everyone else, showing up, pushing through, staying strong. But real strength? It’s knowing when to slow down and look after yourself. 💭

Healing isn’t about being perfect. It’s about creating space to breathe, release, and reconnect with who you really are. You deserve peace. You deserve balance. You deserve to feel whole again. 🌿

If you’ve been feeling stuck, drained, or disconnected, I’m here to help guide you back to yourself. My healing sessions focus on emotional release, inner alignment, and restoring your natural energy flow, so you can move forward feeling lighter and more grounded.

🕯️ Book a session or message me to start your healing journey today.
You’ve been there for everyone else. Now it’s time to be there for you.

03/11/2025

"A man is built from pain and heartbreak, from nights where sleep will not come and mornings that feel like a sentence. He is shaped by the weight he carries in silence, by the quiet rooms where his chest burns and his voice is a locked door. He keeps breathing when every memory hurts, when every reminder stings, when everything gentle feels far away. He does not pretend he is untouched. He bleeds in private and still shows up in public. He learns that survival is not pretty, that strength is not loud, that dignity can look like taking one more steady breath when the world feels cold and unkind.

There is a moment when he stops lying to himself about what was lost. He says the names of the promises that broke. He lets the truth sit in his throat until it stops feeling like fire. He admits he was not enough for someone who could not see him, and he admits they were not enough for the life he needed. He does not turn his hurt into hatred. He allows the ache to be honest. He cries and does not apologize for the flood. He understands that sorrow is not weakness; it is proof that he dared to love with an unguarded heart.

He begins the rebuild with hands that still shake. He does not wait to feel brave before he starts. He cleans the room that held his lowest hour. He washes the dishes that piled up when hope felt small. He answers the messages he avoided, even when shame whispers that silence is safer. He drinks water, eats, walks, rests. He teaches his body that care is not a reward; it is a right. He lets small, ordinary acts become a quiet rescue, tiny anchors that keep him from drifting back into the dark he barely escaped.

He speaks to himself like he would to a brother who is hurting. He says, You did not deserve what broke you. He says, You get to begin again. He says, You are allowed to be slow, and you are allowed to want more. He forgives the man he was for staying too long where love demanded pieces of his soul as payment. He forgives the man he was for mistaking chaos for passion and absence for mystery. He lays down the heavy armor he wore to look unbreakable, and he chooses something braver: to be honest, to be soft, to be real.

He learns the difference between being chosen and being used. He stops offering discounts on his self-respect to buy companionship. He stops treating his heart like a bargaining chip. He says no when no is needed, and he protects that no like a sacred boundary. He discovers that true kindness includes himself. He learns that he cannot save someone by shrinking, that he cannot keep someone by disappearing, that he cannot heal someone by bleeding out. He promises himself: I will not abandon me again.

He studies the shape of his grief until he can touch it without flinching. He lets it teach him patience, presence, and the art of staying with what hurts until it loosens. He holds sorrow in one hand and a stubborn little spark in the other. He does not wait for perfect weather to start living. He walks into the day as he is, carrying both the ache and the ember. He learns that hope is not a sudden brightness; it is the steady pulse that refuses to quit, the soft insistence that there is still something worth tending.

He begins to notice gentle people: the friend who keeps showing up, the neighbor who smiles like an old song, the elder who nods with quiet understanding. Their kindness lands like warm light on cold skin. He receives without arguing. He lets help be holy. He lets love be simple. He becomes careful with his words, generous with his listening, and faithful with his promises. He decides that real power is not control; it is care that does not need to be seen to be real.

He also meets parts of himself he used to outrun: the boy who wanted safety more than applause, the teenager who mistook attention for affection, the young man who wore confidence like a mask with shaking strings. He holds them close and says, You are coming with me this time. No more leaving you in rooms that don’t love you. He becomes the steady presence he was always searching for. He chooses consistency over intensity, honesty over theatrics, devotion over performance.

He does not confuse peace with numbness. He lets joy arrive without interrogation. He laughs even when tears are not far behind. He rests without proving he earned it. He lets his heart open, but not to anyone who treats it casually. He learns to love without losing his edges, to give without emptying, to stay without erasing himself. He creates a life that fits his soul: slow mornings, honest work, kind people, and a self he can look in the mirror and respect.

A man is built from pain and heartbreak, but he is defined by the way he returns to himself after the breaking. He chooses to rebuild not as the person who was shattered, but as the person who learned. He stitches his life back together with patience, faithfulness, and the quiet courage to keep choosing what is good for him. And when he stands again—steady, soft, unafraid to feel—he understands the miracle he carried all along: he was never only broken; he was being remade into someone he could trust with his own heart."

-Steve De'lano Garcia

01/11/2025

01/11/2025

01/11/2025

Good morning 💕

30/10/2025

Celibacy isn't hard for a woman who knows her value.

Most men today aren't worth her time or body.

She's not desperate for physical connection.

She's not settling for mediocre intimacy.

She's not giving herself to men who don't value her.

She's not sharing her body with men who don't cherish her heart.

She'd rather be alone than settle for less.

She'd rather have no one than the wrong one.

She'd rather wait for quality than accept quantity.

She'd rather protect her peace than compromise her standards.

She'd rather preserve her energy than waste it on unworthy people.

Her body is sacred, not recreational.

Her intimacy is precious, not casual.

Her energy is valuable, not disposable.

Her time is limited, not unlimited.

High standards mean high peace.

When you refuse to settle, you maintain your self-respect.

When you wait for quality, you preserve your worth.

When you protect your body, you protect your heart.

When you guard your energy, you maintain your power.

She's not missing out, she's leveling up.

She's not lonely, she's selective.

She's not difficult, she's discerning.

She's not cold, she's careful.

Celibacy is self-care for a woman who knows her worth.

She won't give away what others have to earn.

✍️ 🎨 Matthew Coast

24/10/2025

Sexual energy is healing energy, it can get confused if projected outwardly. Getting you into long term situations that have just been a hormonal surge. Learn how to connect with it & use it for self growth.
DM for treatment details & ceremonial tea questions.

24/10/2025